


a lion in the wolf's den

by theshipshipper



Series: S8 Speculation [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Jaime POV, S8 Speculation, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 09:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18280388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipshipper/pseuds/theshipshipper
Summary: Sansa Stark has grown so much since the last time he’s seen her. Gone is the naïve little girl in her pink dresses with dreams of marrying Joffrey. What he sees now is a Lady, forged with iron and with steel in her eyes.“My Lady.” Jaime lets his knees fall to the ground, head bowed as he placed Widow’s Wail to the ground. “I came here to offer you my sword.”





	a lion in the wolf's den

**Author's Note:**

> basically just Jaime with his incest radar tingling hahaha
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> PS yay to reaching 50 fics. Holy shit. Hahaha.

The road to Winterfell is long and harsh, the cold a test of its own to prove his will to do what he must. Still, despite the hardships that come throughout his journey, Jaime reaches his destination in one piece.

Northmen regard him suspiciously as he enters Winterfell’s gates, but the fact that none of them strikes him down is proof that the agreement made during the summit stands. Despite this, they look at him as an enemy. He supposes that he once was.

But Jaime is ready to take back his honor and he thinks fighting for the right person can bring him just that.

He’s led to the courtyard by a few Stark guards, the crowd watching his every movement with venom in their eyes.

The Lady of the keep arrives not a moment later, with Lady Brienne right at her heels. Jaime takes a moment to take the sight in.

Sansa Stark has grown so much since the last time he’s seen her. Gone is the naïve little girl in her pink dresses with dreams of marrying Joffrey. What he sees now is a Lady, forged with iron and with steel in her eyes. It reminds him of her mother, the Lady Stark, with that same fire in her eyes.

“My Lady.” He lets his knees fall to the ground, head bowed as he placed Widow’s Wail to the ground. “I came here to offer you my sword.”

“Nonsense. Utter nonsense,” a man immediately cuts in, his coat-of-arms indicating that he must be from White Harbor. “My Lady – “

“What is this?” A female voice asks.

Jaime knows enough to know it’s the Dragon Queen. He thinks that what he’s doing is pretty clear, the expressions on the Northern Lords surrounding them is enough indication of it.

From the corner of is eyes, he sees more people gathering around the courtyard but he remains as he is and waits for Sansa’s response.

“Lady Stark,” another man speaks up. “You cannot possibly be considering - “

So many more has begun to speak, each one speaking over the other, but Lady Sansa quiets them all with a hand.

She takes a moment before turning to the Maester standing nearby. “Maester Wolkien, have a chamber and a change of clothes prepared for Ser Jaime and the Cook to bring him some food. After that, gather our Bannermen to the Great Hall.” Then to the crowd among them.

“My Lords, My Ladies – there is a proper way to discuss this matter. I’d hear what Ser Jaime has to say first, if I may.” As an afterthought, she adds: “Your Grace, I’ll not trouble you with these issues but you’re welcome to join, of course.”

Jaime’s led to a chamber and given a change of clothes as the Lady commanded, but he can tell that they do it only out of loyalty to their liege.

It’s something he’d always found curious about the Starks; Ned Stark himself knew how to command people’s complete loyalty, a trait he’s evidently passed down his children.

He’s not sure how long it takes before he’s called to the Great Hall, but he can tell the rest of them has been there for some time.

Sansa Stark sits at the center of the Great Hall, Ned Stark’s bastard right next to her and the Dragon Queen next to him.

Jaime almost laughs. It seems that these Southron games have found its way to the dreary North. The Dragon Queen means to remind them of her power, surely under the advise of Jaime’s own brother.

Jaime shakes the thought away and focuses on the matter at hand. He looks up again, the sight of Brandon Stark looking right a him as he sits on Sansa’s other side gives Jaime some pause.

The things he did for love. Jaime swallows. The boy was still so young then. He continues forward as he must. He’ll face judgement for his crimes, if need be.

Sansa Stark remains to be his last chance for honor.

“My Lady, thank you for granting me an audience,” he says out loud, bowing as he does. Then turning to the Lords around them, he adds: “My Lords.”

“Speak to your intentions, Kingslayer,” a Knight of the Vale, Ser Yohn he recognizes now, hisses the words at him.

Another one asks: “The Lannister Bitch has promised to help in the war effort, why have you come alone?”

Question upon question start pouring out, very much trying his patience, but Sansa Stark tames her men yet again. “My Lords,” she calls them and it’s enough to silence the crowd. She turns to look at him and gives him a nod. “Ser?”

He smiles at her gratefully before regarding the men to provide an answer to their question. “My sister does not intend to keep her word. She’s in talks with the Golden Company and if they are to march North, it is not to help fight off the Dead.” He pauses. “But my Lords, that’s not the reason I’ve come here.”

He turns to Sansa now, talking to her directly. “Lady Stark, I’m far from an honorable man, your family would be the first to know. I have sworn many vows and broken just as much, it’s true. There’s no reason for you to believe me now but if you would allow it…” He kneels down, dropping his sword on the ground for a second time this day. “I vow to shield you from harm and give my life for yours, if need be. My sword is yours, My Lady, from this day to my last. I swear this to the Old Gods and the New.”

Lady Sansa turns to her side, staring at Jon Snow as though a single look equates to an exhaustive conversation between them on the matter.

A Lord stands up in protest, reminding them all that a Lannister cannot be trusted. And this and that from the other northern lords. Jaime keeps his silence, just as Lady Stark keeps hers. She listens to each and every grievance until the fire in the men finally dies down.

When it happens, she takes a moment before speaking. “Thank you all for your counsel. I have listened and it has led me to a decision.” She turns to him. “Ser Jaime, our families have a long and complicated history. Even now, with your news of Queen Cersei’s plans to botch the agreements made during the summit, your loyalty can still be questioned.” She pauses, letting her words echo in their ears. “But as everyone gathered here knows, Winter is here. To let ourselves live in the past and be divided in such a time means to let the dead win. And so, Ser Jaime of House Lannister, in return for your oath, I shall make one of my own.

Sansa chances a look behind her where the Lady Brienne stands as still as a statue. She takes a deep breath. “I vow that you shall always have a place in my hearth, meat and mead at my table, and pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. I swear it to the Old Gods and the New.”

None of her Bannermen seem pleased with the decision, the way they look at Jaime says it all, but none of them questions it.

It’s not out of fear, he notes yet again. Not like in King’s Landing where every man is for his own and to speak against the Crown’s decision is to risk your own head. Here, their silence is out of respect.

Jaime chances a look at the Dragon Queen and finds her burning gaze on him. That fire in her eyes – it’s familiar.

 _Burn them all_.

Jaime looks away in a bid to tame the urge to let his sword fly to her chest.

Sometime later, he finds himself alone with his Lady and the Bastard of Winterfell. He’s only spoken to Jon Snow once, during his first visit North. He remembers congratulating the boy on his decision to join the Knight’s Watch and for protecting the realm from White Walkers and whatnot.

It had been funny then.

Belatedly, he realizes there’s another person in the room. A woman standing by the fireplace playing with a dagger.

“Ser Jaime, as the council has discussed earlier, the Wall has fallen some days ago. With this, we’ve gathered that the Army of the dead has begun their march South. Tomorrow, all the able men and women of the North shall make their way to meet the dead in battle.” She glances at Jon before continuing. “With your experience as both Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and as Battle Commander during the siege of Riverrun, my _brother_ and I have agreed that your expertise will be of better use in the war effort.”

Which means Jon Snow does not trust Jaime with his pretty sister, he muses.

He did not expect the two to be close; he’d always pegged Sansa as her mother’s daughter. He knows Catelyn Stark didn’t have any fondness for Ned Stark’s Bastard son, it’s curious that the daughter most like her would be this fond of the boy.

“I shall do whatever you command of me, My Lady.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jon Snow says gruffly, the first Jaime’s heard him speak throughout the events of today. He gives Jaime a stern look. “We leave before the crack of dawn.”

Lady Sansa turns to Jon Snow in exasperation before regarding Jaime once more. “You have my leave, Ser.”

 

**

  
He’s not sure why he only notices it then, but the way Jon Snow bid his Lady sister goodbye, his face so soft and vulnerable, eyes screaming with love – it all becomes obvious then.

He waits to remark on this when they’re on their way to the fallen Wall. Jon Snow has instructed him to stay near, evidently not trusting him to do good out of his sight.

“Do you love your sister, Lord Snow?” Jaime asks, voice low enough for only Jon to hear. “The Lady Stark?”

He turns to the bastard with a smirk. He doesn’t reply but his face says it all.

“It’s a simple question, My Lord. I mean…” Jaime looks around them. “Why else would you risk your life for such a hopeless war -- against the dead, of all things - if not for love.”

Jon’s jaw works. “And you? If your sister means to break faith then why are you here?”

“It’s what My Lady commanded of me,” Jaime tells him, teasing. “Of course you already know that. You were there.”

Jon Snow’s face darkens and yes, there it is. There’s what Jaime was looking for.

“You don’t like me much, do you,” Jaime starts again. Ahead of them, the Queen is atop her horse, marching with her own men. “But you don’t seem to like her much either.”

It didn’t take long for Jaime to notice how his gaze would flicker each time the Targaryen woman spoke up during the council meeting the day before. Every Northman would huff or curse under their breaths and the bastard boy would take a deep breath as though he’s summoning his own patience.

Only Sansa seems to know how the game works, remaining gracious and hiding her venom hidden in her courtesies.

She’s got a sharp tongue, the Lady Stark, and Jaime doesn’t doubt where she got it from.

Turning back to Jon Snow, Jaime finds his face now completely blank. A mask has gone up it seems, but it’s too late. Jaime already knows what he needed to know.

“The things we do for love,” he remarks quietly.

And when Jon Snow leaves in the middle of battle upon learning about the siege of Winterfell and Sansa’s capture by the hands of Cersei – well, these are the things one would do for love, isn’t it?


End file.
